


Exodus

by Raelae



Series: Tales From The Apocalypse [9]
Category: The Last of Us
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 15:36:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20744567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raelae/pseuds/Raelae
Summary: In an attempt to find some closure for himself, Joel wanders off on his own to look for answers for the questions swirling in his mind. He just needs to do this one final thing before he and his brother Tommy leave Texas behind for good.





	Exodus

Joel stood in the brush as he stared ahead of him, only half concealed from the eyes of the world around him. But he wasn't all that concerned with hiding at the moment, if he had been then he'd be more cautious about crossing the road before him. 

It was no interstate, not by a long shot, just a simple country road. But these days, any road was a potential death trap. He and Tommy had come across their fair share in their travels away from the fallen QZ. Roads clogged with cars from people trying to escape, eventually turning to walking out instead.

But not all those cars were abandoned. Many still contained the now dusty bones of their former owners, some clearly showing the signs of bullet wounds. An unmistakable hole in the head or a slightly rounded off break in a rib or sternum area. Just enough to tell you something had struck them there, that their end was in no way a peaceful one.

They were minefields. People knew others would gravitate towards these jam ups despite the risk, hoping to find anything that might be left behind, if they were desperate enough. And the infected...well people aren't always quiet when they go rummaging through things. A car door or a trunk slamming can travel a long way.

This road before him though...was devoid of any such landmark. Not one car was to be seen for miles either way on it's cracked surface. Didn't make it safe though. It was still a road, and roads were dangerous. But he knew he could cross it in just a few strides, country roads weren't known for being very wide after all. But that still did not make it safe.

He looked up, watching as the skies changed color as evening set in, but darker not only from the approaching twilight, but the clouds of a late season storm. It was cool out, but this storm still looked like it was going to pack a punch.

With a heavy sigh, he pushed forward, seeking the shelter of a small farm just across from him.

The crossing was made without incident and now his only concern was clearing the property before him. It didn't consist of too much, a small two story home with a porch that partially wrapped around, a garage across from it on what would be his right side, the dirt path of the drive way curving towards it. The drive continued straight as well, leading to a big red barn with a corral in the back. One of those old ones you see in those paintings that are everywhere. Not one of those long modern ones with all the amenities. This was an old world farm, one of the few that had been holding on.

...now it was barely standing. It had only been a couple years but time was already doing it's damage now that mankind wasn't there to keep things in order. The paint chipped, windows were broken, boards were missing and bits of the roof were scattered on the ground from storms. This farm had stood for generations...but now it was quietly dying.

Sighing and shaking his head, Joel made for the front porch, cringing as the first step creaked as loud as it possibly could. He stood motionless for a few moments, waiting to see if anything or anyone came meandering out. Thankfully, he was still alone.

Taking a deep breath, he ascended the final three stairs and moved onto the porch, stopping to look at the small round table that sat just under the window, two chairs on either side of it, one tipped over.

For just a moment he saw a quick flash of two older people sitting there, playing a game of cards. He grumbled to himself and pushed on, placing his hand on the handle of the screen door and carefully pulling. These things could be notoriously loud. This one however...just came off the hinges in his hand and he had to quickly take hold of it with his other hand so it wouldn't crash to the floorboards.

Gaining control of it, he slowly let it down as he stepped over it and opened the inner door.

The house was eerily quiet and more than a little unnerving. That feeling in your gut where you know you're somewhere you shouldn't be.

He quietly stepped inside, and was met by a small cozy little sitting room. Amazingly a lot of it was still in tact, the entertainment center still standing against a far wall, a couch against another wall with a chair opposite it and a coffee table in the center. The floor though was littered with memento's of the former family. So someone had been pillaging here at some point, not surprising really. That was life now after all.

He bent down and sifted through some of it, picking up pictures and looking at them. He scowled at one in particular and dropped it back in the pile, done with this bit of history that lay piled on the floor, soon to be nothing more than dust. 

Getting back to his feet, he moved passed the stairs for now and along to the next room, the dining area. The table still stood proudly in the center, more bits and bobs scattered about on it. A mashup of more family belongings and empty cans of food, along with discarded water bottles.

There wasn't really anything else there other than a corner china cabinet, and nothing in there was useful, so he moved on to the kitchen.

All the doors were thrown open, it's contents spilled out on the counter tops and the floor. This would be the one room that would be trashed to hell. All the useful things were gone, the food, knives, even some of the other silverware. The pantry was in no better shape. When he opened the door he found boxes scattered about on the floor, most of these being food that didn't survive the rodent incursion that came after the owners left...or turned...whatever happened to them. The boxed food was useless and the only cans left in there had rusted, meaning the food inside was unsafe.

He backed out of the pantry and moved down a small hallway, finding only a small office, downstairs bathroom, and a mudroom leading out back.

Doubling back, he made for the stairs he initially ignored in the sitting room and made his way upstairs, conscious of his footing. He didn't want to make too much noise, nor did he want his foot going through a shoddy stair.

When he reached the landing, all there was were three doors opposite each other going down a short hallway. Another bathroom, a kids room, and the master bedroom. 

He peeked into the kids room first, noting the posters that still covered the walls, though they were now either faded or slowly peeling off. But you could tell by looking at them that older kids had stayed in here, teenagers. There was a bed on each side of the room, one surrounded by sports and outdoor pictures. The opposite one not decorated as much, but containing a few musical inspirations.

Joel spent no more time in this room.

He passed the bathroom, knowing that would be the other place cleared out right away and moved to the master bedroom, already having it in mind to dig around. It was getting cold and his old jacket just wasn't going to cut it anymore. But considering how many people may have been here already...he'd be lucky if he found anything here. Was worth the look though. So ignoring the property left in this room, he went straight to the small closet, already frowning as the door was wide open.

Here too items were scattered around on the floor where people left them when they found them to not fit or just didn't like the look of them. Some people still felt like they needed to find clothes that were fitting to their tastes. One thing that would go away with time. Soon they'd realize practicality over good looks.

He knelt down, picking through what remained on the floor, hoping something good laid buried here that no one could fit into. And sure enough, he did luck out. Underneath the suits and dresses, and other miscellaneous clothes, was a green Dickies work jacket. He quickly slipped it on, knowing by looking at it that it would fit, and sure enough it did.

So, now that he was satisfied and sure of the house being clear, he made his way downstairs just as the first raindrops hit the ground outside, the wind kicking up and banging the old wooden shutters against the walls.

Well, there was no doubt now, he was stuck here till it passed. So, moving over to the couch to get comfortable, he slipped his pack off and rummaged through it, pulling out a few MRE's and picking through them to decide which would be his meal for the night. Sure, they were nowhere near a five star meal but, it did the job. And so he sat on the couch and watched the rain begin to pound the windows, knowing that at that very moment Tommy was probably loosing his goddamned mind. He had slipped away without saying anything after all but...he needed this right now. Come morning they would be making their trek, leaving Texas behind forever, and with it the memories, both painful and joyous. But this world here...was dead. It was time to move on. Joel just needed this final thing for himself. Needed...to see...

But see what exactly? What was he really even looking for? Proof that somewhere anything was different from what he'd seen anywhere else? That maybe somewhere someone had found a way to save humanity? No. He wasn't looking for any of that. He knew what he was looking for, and he was thoroughly disappointed by what he found.

He laid down on the couch, placing his bag under his head as he tried to drift off. In the morning he'd return to Tommy. He knew his little brother would still be right where he left him, because Tommy knew he'd be back. Or at least he hoped he did. He hadn't exactly been proving to his brother that he wanted to even be here anymore after all. Tommy's trust was surly gone. But somehow...Joel knew he'd wait. So he closed his eyes, and drifted off to the wind and rain.

He awoke late into the night to the brightest flash of light and the loudest crack of thunder he'd heard in some time. He sat straight up, momentarily losing his bearings. He ran his hands over his face once he collected himself, understood it was just the storm outside. He knew it was going to be a storm but, not quite like this one. But he was a Texan, not like he wasn't use to it. So instead of worrying on it much more, he laid back down on the couch, curling his arms around his bag and drifting off again to the thunder and rain. The wind blowing through the parts of the glass that was broken in the window. The back and forth banging of something in the distance...or maybe not in the distance....

His eyes shot back open as he listened, wondering if maybe it was just the shutters and just that one of them became more loosened in the wind. But that wasn't the shutters, that was something bigger. He squeezed his eyes shut as he berated himself for breaking one of his own rules. Secure all entryways.

He slowly sat up, grabbing his bag and slipping it on as he got up and carefully made his way towards the sound. Even with the wind and thunder, he could still hear his heart pounding in his chest, feel it against his sternum. He crept into the dining room, and then into the kitchen. The flashes of lightening illuminated the room, making the shadows play with his eyes. But after discerning there was no threat, he moved down the hall towards the mud room, looking in and seeing the back door blowing violently in the wind.

For just a moment his heart stopped, a sick feeling rising in his stomach. Maybe it was nothing. The house was falling apart, maybe the door just couldn't stay latched anymore. The house was old to boot after all, it wouldn't take much neglect to bring about a quick destruction.

At least...that's what he wanted to believe. But he knew it wasn't true.

His hair stood up on his neck, and he wasn't sure if it was the charge from all the static in the air from the lighting or not. But something just felt wrong. Something felt...

His breath caught and he swirled around, seeing a figure staggering in the doorway. The lighting flashed, illuminating the room and the figure, but before he even had time to process what he was seeing, it was screeching and charging. He didn't even move one foot before it slammed into him, sending them both out the doorway, clearing the steps and landing squarely in the mud, the impact knocking the breath from Joel for a moment.

He came around with just enough time to spare as he threw his arm up to block the infected's lunging head, planting it in it's throat and holding it at bay. He faltered for a moment as fear took him, up to this point he had rarely found himself in a fight with an infected. 

The chomping of it's teeth brought him around again, and he struggled to get his leg up under it, pushing off with it once he did. He sent it flying and wasted no time scrambling to his feet. But the ground was muddy with the torrential rain, and it took him more than a few attempts to finally get upright. Luckily the infected faced the same problem and it bought him a little time to bolt towards the barn.

Joel was only a few yards from it when he felt the mass hit him in the back again. He went down hard once more, tumbling across the ground as he did his best to roll away at the same time. The infected was mere feet from him, on it's hands and knees as it snarled at him.

Right now Joel felt like he was in every horror movie that he had ever seen. He'd been through this before just...not while he was alone.

It ran at him again, starting off on all fours before getting to it's feet and hauling ass.

“Shit...” 

Joel pushed himself up quickly, getting to his feet just in time to extend a fist and knock the infected on it's back.

He wasted no time as he turned and continued his mad scramble to the barn, he could hear the splats of the puddles behind him though as the infected ran to catch up, it's ear-piercing screeching even managing to sound out over the thunder.

Soaked and sore from the impacts, he reached the barn door and nearly ran into it, unable to control his momentum. His lungs burned from both the exertion and the air as the temperature began to drop more. He needed to get inside. 

He struggled with the door, hoping the mud would prove just enough of an obstacle to slow the infected down till he got inside.

He did have enough time to slide it open, but then the full weight of the running infected slammed into his back once again. Both fell forward flailing into the barn.

For a moment all was quiet, save for the storm outside, though even that was muffled to Joel as his ears rang from his head slamming to the ground. He could hear the infected growling and screeching but so far it wasn't coming.

Slowly he pushed himself up, getting to his hands and knees and managing at the very least to crawl across the ground. He risked a glance over his shoulder and found what was saving him. The infected had somehow managed to impale itself in a pitch fork, which looked to have come down from some crudely set trap. If the infected hadn't sent him flying then more than likely that would have been him right now.

For a brief moment he entertained the thought that just maybe someone was really watching over him, but then he remembered where he was and decided it was a cruel joke instead.

Still hurting, he couldn't quite manage to get to his feet, so he continued to crawl off to the side towards the horse stalls, just needing a moment to catch his breath. If the trap held...well there was no need for him to rush.

He made his way towards a stall that was already open just enough for him to squeeze into. He could just...slide the door shut and rest here a moment, before going back out to finish the infected off. He crawled through, his head and shoulders just emerging into the stall as he turned his head to the right...and he yelped. Not having any room to jump away, he just fell against the stall frame.

He turned his face back and found the contorted face of two decomposing corpses. He nearly threw up as the stench was right in his face. Judging by the clothes of one of them it was definitely female, her jaw lay slack, a gun in her outstretched hand. That same hand still showed a very clear bite. Next to her was a male, his hand gripping her other hand, also sporting the same hole in his head and a bite clearly on his shoulder. 

He couldn't take his eyes from the scene before him. Despite the ashen look, the sunken in cheeks and jerky textured skin. Even this way...there was no mistaking those faces...

The screeches entered his ears again and he finally tore his eyes away from them. He grasped the gun and pulled it from her hand, letting his fingers brush across it as he did so.

He slowly backed out of the stall and used the wall to make his way back to his feet. He looked up, checking to see that the infected was still trapped. It was...and it was none too happy about it. The trap was designed with just enough force that it pinned the infected to the wall next to the doorway, the prongs embedding themselves just enough to hold it there.

Squeezing back the tears that had formed in his eyes, he centered himself before checking the clip in the gun. What luck...one round left.

He slowly limped his way across the barn, making his way towards the infected. It's screeches grew ever louder as he approached, trying desperately to reach an arm out to grab at him. But the pitch fork held it in place.

Joel stopped just out of it's reach, staring at it. For the longest of moments he just stood there, staring, before at last raising the gun.

“...I know this wasn't the real you that did this pal, but even still...you took people special to me away...”

And he pulled the trigger.

By morning the storm had passed, the skies had cleared, and a low mist covered the ground. Joel sat out in it, sitting against the fence behind the barn where the horses once ran. Ahead of him, in the open field, was a cross bearing two names. The names of the couple from the stalls...his mother and father.

He was still trying to recover from the night before, both physically and mentally. He was still trying to accept the fact that they were really gone. Something he had assumed already, but didn't want to believe till he had the proof in front of him. This day he held two more members of his family in his arms as he put them in the earth. 

...He was tired of burying people.

The rustle of grass brought him around and he reached behind him to get his gun, but stopped when he saw the form appear through the mist.

“...I knew I'd find you here.”

“...really?” Joel asked as he brought his arm back around, giving his brother a look.

“Yeah, I did. I knew we were near the farm, so it made perfect sense to...oh shit...”

Tommy paused and looked at the cross, then scanned his eyes over his brother.

“...Joel...”

“They were already gone when I got here...bitten...I took out the one that did it and I don't want to talk about it anymore.”

“Joel...” 

“I said no. It's done and over with Tommy, we leave in the past what's in the past.”

“That won't make things better.”

“Didn't say it would. But it's better than being reminded.”

“Joel...”

“Tommy...I said enough.”

Tommy only sighed as Joel shifted, reaching behind him to grip the fence and pull himself up.

“Joel I...”

“Don't Tommy...please. We...we were raised here...played right here...set off fireworks on the 4th right where...”

“...that's why you buried them there...right? This is...this is where we always setup for family occasions. The tent always went right over there. You even got...”

“Married right there...yeah, that one we can forget about the most. Shoulda' listened to mom...but like I said...the past is the past Tommy...so drop it. We're leaving.”

“...you sure you can move right now?”

“...I can't stay here...we'll rest somewhere and then...get the hell out of this State. I'm never coming back here...I can't...”

“...never say never...”

“We're leaving...come on.”

Tommy said no more as he tailed after his brother, watching in case he needed any help. He did throw a final look over his shoulder though, committing the scene to memory. At least they were together, that's all he could ask for.

He turned back and moved up closer to his brother, not looking back again.

**Author's Note:**

> I have Re-written this thing so many times. But within the last week I decided it needed to be done. I have personally called this coming week Last of Us week, as we are about to finally get new information for Part 2, and it's also Outbreak day in the same week. So I felt I needed to get something finished in celebration of both days.


End file.
